This question is asked, almost every time, one suggests Tonteldoos, as a destination.

My Dad’s favorite route to Gunyatoo, was over the Steenkampberg pass. On each trip, we would encounter the name, twice (once just outside Stoffberg, and once just past Roossenekal). Sadly, my Dad was more of a “destination” kind of guy. The route, once selected, was to be endured, in the shortest possible time. Thus effectively expanding our bladder capacities ( by keeping biological breaks to the absolute minimum), and inadvertently deleting, any opportunity of exploration and adventure. To be fair, the Ford Zodiac, once prepped and polished for the trip, had a strong aversion for dirt roads. No surprise then, that Tonteldoos remained, undetected and unexplored by me, throughout my childhood, teens, and indeed well into my 40’s.

For the sake, of my story. I would’ve liked, to be able to describe, some or other serendipitous discovery of this “pearl”. But in truth, my first encounter of Tonteldoos, was rather uneventful and insignificant. In truth, I didn’t even know, I had in fact, discovered it at all!. And even, once discovered, it had little value and invoked only mild interest in me, until I required, a midway stop-off between Pretoria and Sabi. Its isolation, relatively easy access, and charm, has made it a firm favorite, on most of my adventure trips.

My first time, I’d organized a trip from Pretoria to Dullstroom, with some friends, on quads and “side by sides”. My steed of choice, back then, was a Canam 800 Outlander. Which, for its part, had an aversion for tar. My son George (then around 7 years old), kept dosing off, and falling forward onto the petrol tank. I continuously had to balance his head, as it bounced from one side of the tank to the other. A blob of prestik, between his helmet and the tank – was what I considered, a makeshift solution, to the problem. At our next stop, we’d already finished lunch, whilst George was still hugging the petrol tank. Face first, and sound asleep.

It was only when we reached Dullstroom, during our customary (beer infused) debriefing, of jumps, jolts, slides and close calls. That my friend mentioned “I nearly lost it, when I had a tankslap at Tonteldoos.” I don’t remember my exact words, but something like, “Where the #!*@ was Tonteldoos?” was my response. To which my friend replied, “Those sad little houses at the T-junction? – that was it!”

I have since, rediscovered this little pearl, a couple of times. Each time, reveals a new dimension of awe and wonder. Her name directly translated means “tinder box”. She has never failed to ignite my curiosity and love for Adventure. Whether by car, bicycle, adventure bike or most recently on “plastics”. Two of her, fairly recent inhabitants, Pete and Joe, have added an element of, “sanctioned” accessibility, previously denied to, the hordes, and us – intrepid weekend warriors.

Recently our neighbor at Gunyatoo, requested that we stop “getting lost” in their forests. So we decided to spite them, and spend our post covid, time and money, at Tonteldoos this trip. Joe suggested a very basic route, for us. Having guzzled, a welcome buffet breakfast at Highside tavern, we were off. In truth, Joe’s route, was more of a general direction, that a route. But what an awesome day, the guys had. Despite the varying-degree of competence (and indeed incompetence), the route was enjoyed by all. Thanks Joe ans Pete.

And in the words of uncle Arnie – “I’ll be back.”